The Ship in the Sky
by MLynnBloom
Summary: On top of Hector's sustainable, hot-air balloon invention, all Duncan and Isadora Quagmire can do is look down. -one shot-


**Title:** The Ship in the Sky

**Disclaimer: **(In 'Sunny-lingo') 'Qui?' which presumably means here, "Who's MLynnBloom? Why would she own us? I don't think my siblings and I have ever met her acquaintance... you wouldn't happen to know if the Quagmires are well, would you?"

**Summary:** On top of Hector's sustainable, hot-air balloon invention, all Duncan and Isadora Quagmire can do is look down.

**Warning:** If you have not read up to Book the Tenth, The Slippery Slope, I would advise you to not read this fiction, even though you already should be running away as far as you can from this woeful and horrible story.

* * *

It was a lovely site. Being suspended on an enormous balloon hundreds of feet above a never-ending, glimmering sea as the day was ending slowly. Hector was leaning over the edge of one of the numerous baskets, admiring the site as if it was the first time he had ever seen a sunset. He pointed out the seagulls in the distance and the sinking sun although he had been doing the same thing for weeks. How many weeks, the Quagmires triplets weren't sure. They had lost track of the days nearly a month before.

But even though the sun had come out and disappeared each day just like it had everyday the Quagmires had been alive to see it, they couldn't help joining Hector. There was a feeling of an otherworldly solitude they felt high above when they stared at the reddening sun.

Isadora Quagmire, with one hand, held on to one of the ropes keeping the basket attached to the balloons high above her, the other hand grasping her black notebook. The wind whipped her hair in her face and after a few moments, she opened her notebook.

Duncan Quagmire had been doing the same thing, one hand on the ropes, the other on his dark green notebook. But he had not opened it. He couldn't look at it anymore, if fact he didn't need to. He read what he had written so many times he could recite it. More than anything, Duncan wished to recite it than have it repeat in his mind like a taunting broken record. He felt he would do just about anything to say it aloud, only for the Baudelaires ears to hear and finally know.

He walked across the hot-air balloon over to his sister, Isadora, and stood beside her. Her wide eyes, exactly identical to his, were unfocused looking out toward the sea. Her notebook was closed again, but her pen was still clenched in her hand. She had been writing. Duncan didn't feel like he had to ask what she was thinking about; he had a feeling he already knew.

"I wonder how they are... where they are now," Duncan finally said. There was silence except for the rushing wind and Hector's humming coming from the 'kitchen' where he prepared dinner with what food they had left. Duncan sighed. He had calculated it out. They didn't have enough food to last them forever like Hector had said, not even for another year if they wanted to.

"The thing...," Duncan continued, desperate to make conversation with her, "The thing that kills me the most inside is thinking of what could have happened differently."

Isadora still said nothing.

"If they only had climbed up the ladder, or had gotten our notes on the V.F.D. in whole. I don't think they could read what we found out now... It's horrible to talk about it, I know. I just can't help thinking about it. What Count Olaf has done, what he might still do...

"Just think. If we had never made friends with Violet, or Klaus, or Sunny, we would still be at school listening to those awful violin recitals!" Duncan laughed shortly but became quiet. His sister's silence was alarming him. They could talk about anything, everything together before, and now she wasn't saying a word.

Duncan leaned over the basket further, his arms pressed against the sturdy wicker as he looked down at the unnerving, black waves. They hadn't said much for days, and Duncan wasn't sure why so suddenly. Perhaps it was because the weight of it all finally slapped him and his sister in the face. And by "slapped in the face", it does not mean it literally. When someone uses that term, it mostly likely means that person has come to reality at a point of his or her life. Duncan was getting a slap in the face just now.

Duncan looked down into the moving, jet black waves. What if it didn't matter what the Baudelaires were up to? What if it was too late? He hated the thought that they were high above all their worries and they were down below, running away for their lives. They were the greatest friends he and Isadora had ever had, and his eyes blurred with tears as he thought about what might become of them if Count Olaf had reached them once again. It was then when he realized they were never high enough to fly away from their worries. Their friends were in danger, the food to last them a lifetime was running slowly out, and the fire that destroyed their old life would never escape them. The flames still burned in Duncan's dreams.

He stood upright finally and turned away from Isadora, casually bringing his hand up to his face to wipe his eyes. He didn't want her to know he was crying.

And even still when Hector's humming still continued softly (and off-tune) and the sun sank even lower, Isadora had not said a word. In fact, her head was turned slightly away, her short hair hiding her face.

"Isadora!" Duncan pleaded abruptly, getting frustrated as the empty feeling in his stomach came back. His throat choked up as he felt tears rushing to his eyes again, but he kept them back as best as he could. "Please talk to me! Honestly? I... I can't stand living up here! I can't stand thinking of what we're missing out there below, what we could be doing to help! But you're the only one I have up here, and if you can't talk to me anymore..."

Duncan finished with a trembling gasp as he started to cry. He felt ashamed doing so, just standing there weeping, but he couldn't hold it back. All he could think about, like he had for months, was the Baudelaires faces and how horribly wrong everything turned out to be. All he could hope for was that they were still alive and that either Violet's brilliant inventions, Klaus's researching knowledge, or even Sunny's biting might just come in handy to save their own lives while they floated above.

And as Duncan wiped his face again with his sleeve, Isadora turned around too. Her face was also wet, her eyes shining with tears. She grabbed Duncan suddenly and hugged him. He hugged her back tightly and if he hadn't been crying so much, he would have smiled.

"I know, Duncan," Isadora said at last with a quivering voice, "I'm sorry I haven't been myself lately, but... everything you've said is so true. I feel guilty almost... sooner or later we need to get back down there. We have a whole life down there and I want to help them so badly, no matter how scared I might be." She stopped mid-thought and gave a shaky laugh as she wiped the last of her tears away, "It's so strange. I would have done anything to fly on something as amazing as this a few years ago, but now everyday I dread that I'll wake up and catch a newspaper in the wind and read something awful."

Duncan nodded sadly but the feeling he felt for days in his stomach as if he had swallowed something large like a rock was gone now that they were finally speaking. There was a pause for a moment as they both looked out. The sun was melting on the horizon like butter.

"I wonder what direction we're going. That old compass of Hector's doesn't seem to reliable," Isadora said quietly trying to bring up happier subjects.

"Yes, I suppose it doesn't. If only we had a good navigation map, like the ones Qu---" Duncan stopped and felt as someone had punched him in the stomach. Quigley.

Isadora's face was flushed from all color and looked as if she was about to break down sobbing again, but with a shaky hand she opened her notebook and took out a piece of scrap paper.

"The reason I was, well..." She rubbed her red eyes, "I've been thinking about... him. It seems as if more time goes by, the worse it hurts inside..." Her voice trailed off as she hung her head and held out the paper for Duncan to read. He unfolded it and saw one of Isadora's couplets she had written that day in the middle:

_You could map every land that we've crossed,_

_But now without you, both of us are lost._

Duncan read it over and over and looked over to Isadora who was sitting down with her back against the basket wall. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks as she tried to smile when he looked down at her. Isadora always said the truth as it was, even though it was hard to hear. Missing their parents and their brother Quigley made them feel as if pieces of them were missing inside. Duncan bent down to hug her again.

If you have ever experienced something extremely sad in your life, or you are remembering it like the Quagmires have, like thinking of a time where your pet goldfish died or when someone took the last piece of apple pie in the house, you will find that hugs make the situation a little more bearable for the moment. No matter how many times you have had them, hugs are just one of those things in life that can never get tiring or old, like salmon.

Duncan sat beside her with his arm around her just in silence. He tried to think of happier times to reminisce, or "remember out-loud". Duncan finally spoke, "Everything has gone so fast lately, but now that you look back, there were some good times we had with the Baudelaires although we were too rushed or scared to notice them. Remember back when we met them at Prufrock Preparatory School and when we agreed to run their laps that one night? I never noticed until now how funny that bag of flour we replaced as Sunny looked until now..." Duncan giggled feebly. Isadora let out a giggle too until both of them started to laugh, something they hadn't been able to do in a long time.

"It seemed awful at the time, but what if you and I hadn't had silverware to share with them on that day when the Baudelaires got theirs taken away. We all would have had to eat scrambled eggs with our hands at breakfast!" Isadora giggled louder and as the two of them imagined that, they were almost laughing too loudly to hear Hector.

"Dinner!" Hector called waving his spatula across the hot-air balloon baskets.

"I suppose we better go eat," Duncan said as he stood up. He pulled Isadora up with him and with the last look at the sunset and Duncan, she made her way to dining table.

Duncan grabbed each of their notebooks before leaving to eat. He looked to the floor for Isadora's poem, but it was nowhere to be seen. He looked up and to his surprise, he noticed that they could see land. The shores were calm and still and beyond a cluster of forest trees, a gigantic cliff was pouring gallons of water down the side of a tall mountain. He took a double take as he looked above the cliff. There was a dark blob in the sky, barely big enough to see but hard to miss out on. It was moving away and changing as if it was made up of many things and not one whole thing. It reminded him of the crows in the village of 'V.F.D.'. If only they could explain to the Baudelaires what the real V.F.D. was. He blinked and the moving spot was gone.

He almost had forgotten about dinner until he heard Isadora's steps. "Coming?" She asked as she looked out over to the shore-side.

Duncan's eyes followed the waterfall to the raging river as he stood for a moment imagining how wonderful it would be to get off the balloon to just walk by the river. It was obscured by the line of trees and came around and deposited into the ocean from what so far up looked like a tiny trickle. But even from far up, Duncan leaned over suddenly and he felt Isadora's hand grab his shirt in fear of him falling over. There was a _person_ in the stream. Its dark head bobbed up, its arms failing for the side of the stream. It happened all under a second.

"Look!" Duncan yelped as he pointed frantically. Isadora leaned over suddenly too looking as hard as she could for anything. Duncan looked back. There was nothing. No person, no movement other than the river waters crashing into the ocean.

"N-never mind," Duncan stuttered. Isadora gave him a concerned stare, took one last look at the ocean before turning and grabbing Duncan's arm so he would come to supper for sure this time.

_It was just an illusion. My eyes are playing tricks on me, just like with what I saw over the mountainside,_ Duncan thought but he shivered as a cold chill went through him. He swore he had seen someone in the water but his certainty was fading. The strange thing, he thought, was that he thought he saw _himself_ in there. _No, I couldn't have,_ Duncan thought simply, _because I am up here_. And then he figured he imagined it because it was how he felt deep inside. Lost and helpless without anywhere to grab on to to steady his life as it rushed over him like rapid water. Duncan shook off the feeling although it lingered in the middle of his chest.

The sun had completely set and for the rest of the night, Isadora and Duncan did their best to ignore their worries for a moment to enjoy Hector's meal and the stars above them.

* * *

The pounding of the water against his head made his ears throb as he held his notebook above of him. He had been struggling in the water for endless hours it seemed. He felt the side of the river with his foot and kicked up. For a split second, he saw clearly above the water to endless stretch of sea and his heart beat even faster than it already was. He threw his notebook to the border of the shore; he would need both arms to swim through the waves and he would come back for his notes.

It came almost too suddenly to prepare for. The running water hit the ocean's rough, seawater waves and he gasped. Water rushed into his mouth and coughed as he tried to reach the shore side. He was being thrashed around and unexpectedly, the frothy water pulled him under.

It was as if the border of the ocean and the raging river made an underwater whirlpool. His feet were shot down below him as he was sucked even deeper. A moment later, his feet were above him as the water swirled viciously. It seemed like forever---he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He needed luck, but when had he gotten any yet? If luck were on his side it would have helped him and Violet get up the waterfall easier to get to Sunny on the top. If luck were on his side, they would have been able to stop Count Olaf before he set his latest plan into action. But luckily, luck was on his side at this moment and as his feet made contact with a large rock on the ocean floor, he kicked as hard as he could and Quigley Quagmire made contact with the surface.

He gasped for air as luck offered him a twisted root offshore from the trees. A soggy piece of paper was sticking to it and he grabbed it as held on as tired as his arms were. Hand by hand he pulled his way up the thick root to land and collapsed on the soft shore.

The stars were swirling above him as his head spun dizzily. Every inch of him was aching painfully but he managed with his last ounce of strength to push himself up and crawl over to his notebook.

He held it tightly as if he was still in the water holding on before being dunked under again. The whole series of events he had experienced the last few days suddenly swirled in him mind. Baudelaires, eagles, sugarbowl, JS, Carmelita and Olaf, Violet's face...

He crawled a bit more over to the icy shadows of the trees. He couldn't risk being seen by an enemy. He noticed the wad of wet paper he found stuck on the root was still in his hand and unfolded it carefully. There was just a dark smudge of ink, and he could only recognize a few letters and words, such as "you", "land", and "us". Quigley tossed it aside, slightly irritated that he couldn't read it incase it held vital information.

He looked out to the shore and planned to start out to the last meeting place of the V.F.D. tomorrow. He wished as hard as he could on the brightest star in the sky that the Baudelaires would be there to meet him. He felt like a child wishing on a star but it gave him hope.

His joints ached as he laid his head on his notebook and he looked up, his eyes crossing in exhaustion. The brightest star dwarfed all the other stars around it but in an instant, it disappeared. Quigley wanted to get up to see why but his tired neck wouldn't let him. That star gave him a feeling of strange security and with it gone, he felt awfully alone. It wasn't until it he noticed other stars disappearing and reappearing that he forced himself to sit up.

An enormous shadow was passing through the sky slowly, but the shadow was not at all ominous or threatening. It calmed him, just as the star had. He felt like he was dreaming although he was sure he was awake, wasn't he? It felt as if he was watching a page of a childhood fairytale come to life. The shadow of the base was thin and delicate under the vast clouds of shadow, looking like sails above.

"Like a ship in the sky," Quigley whispered roughly to himself, almost hoping someone like Violet would respond or agree back. Perhaps the piece of paper had fallen from it...

But the ship drifted on and his eclipsed star came back, his security for the night. Quigley felt a smile on his face as he closed his eyes and even though his mind was filled with dark memories of all the unfortunate events that befelled him that day, he fell asleep before he felt his head hit his notebook dreaming of flying ships over the sea.

* * *


End file.
